Set Off
by TeamEdwardxxxTeamTaylor
Summary: When Amber doesn't understand her mother, she set off to an adventure to seek love.
1. Soothed & Provoked

**1. ****Soothed & Provoked**

Pushing through the mahogany door, the antique but welcoming scent of wood and paper filled my lungs.

Joe's greeting followed no later than my entry, "Hey, Am!" He doesn't need to look to know it's me. "Pretty early for a holiday morning." His short bronze cropped hair always made him look younger than men in their forties.

"Just a good start for my spring break," I grinned at my old friend.

I have known Uncle Joe almost all my life, ever since Mum first brought me to this little bookstore. I was about seven and Joe has been very friendly all the time, as if we had known each other for years.

I walked along the aisles, scanning for something to read. _The Raven._I picked it up, "Edgar Allan Poe, classy," Joe holding another pile of books, peeked over my shoulder.

I flipped through the pages and a card was stuck in the middle. A line was printed on it: _All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream._ The handwriting looks…familiar. I gathered a few more novels and hid in a corner. I need to spend some peaceful hours.

When I was about to leave, I waved Joe goodbye. He gazed at me and paused. He opened his mouth but not a single syllable escaped, his eyes went wide for a second.

But his warm smile returned instantly and he muttered, "Come and look for me if you need help. I will see you very soon." "Thanks, Joe."

I sauntered as slowly as I could, heading towards the one place I least wanted to be. Home. I could forecast what is going to happen. As soon as I stepped inside, a call came from the kitchen, "Amber?"

"Yes, Mum. I'm home." I announced in my polite tone. I tried to dash upstairs but the sound of footsteps was already approaching.

I turned around and Mum was standing right next to the staircase, "Where have you been?" Her face twisted into a frown. I could sense the discontent embedded in her words.

"Just wandering round the neighbo-"

"You were at Joe's, weren't you?" Mum accused, cutting my line.

"Mum, it's the first day of my spring break, I-"

"You should be preparing your schoolwork instead of wasting your time dreaming the unrealistic. And have you decided which college you are applying next year? Do some serious research!" the fury was surfacing.

"Nothing interests me apart from writing," I muttered. Once again, we fell into the same argument.

"Your father and I have made it clear that you need to pursue further studies. There're still a lot of subjects for you to choose: Medicine, Law, Psychology. You will not make a living by writing." she repeated the same speech for the third time in the month.

"Writing is my ambition, my dream, my _passion_!" I could feel heat flooding on my face.

"This is for your own good," she insisted. I have had enough of her _caring_ talk.

"No, it's not. It's for _your_ own good! Just because Grandpa failed to become a writer and made a terrible life out of you doesn't mean writing is going to ruin my life." I knew mentioning Grandpa would ignite her rage but I was too irritated to care.

"_You don't know a thing._" she swore through her teeth. Her words were coloured by anger but there was something else, was it sadness? Maybe I just imagined that.

I escaped from the hurtful conversation and locked myself in my room. Curling on my bed, I stared at the framed photo on my bedside table. It was Grandma and me. Grandma was the best storyteller ever, she told me history, stories she invented and stories Grandpa invented. Grandpa passed away when she was only forty. But she never blamed him for being too stubborn to give up writing or leaving three children for her to take care of alone, not even when she died three years ago.

I had no idea why Mum hated me following Grandpa's path; I didn't understand her and apparently, vice versa.

Trying to avoid any awkward moment with Mum, I lingered for a while and searched for something to do in my room. The box of photo albums on top of my bookshelf caught my eyes. They were labelled by years: 2003, 1998, 1992, 1989 and the oldest of all, 1985. I picked the last one, it was the year when Grandpa died; Grandma was forty, Aunt Jane was thirteen, Uncle Charles was nine and Mum was fifteen.

I cleared the thick layer of dirt from the album and flipped it open; time had washed most photos yellowish. The first one was Aunt Jane holding a gold medal in her swim suit, Grandpa's handwriting printed: _Jane came first in 200m swimming race (25__th__ March, 1985)_. There were many more interesting photos: Grandpa working on his new story; Uncle Charles crying over his broken new toy car.

Giggling over the description, I moved on to the next page, I froze.

It was Mum's birthday; standing beside her was another girl, slightly older and taller than her. Their arms wrapped around each other, there were a lot of resemblances between them, what's more is that the girl looked like…me. The frantic rhythm in my chest grew louder when I tried to pronounce the description, "_17 year-old Amber stayed with us for her gap-year, 15__th__ of August, 1985._"

Before I could understand a word, darkness engulfed me.

**-Author's Note:**

**Thank you for reading. I know this doesn't belong to any original stories at all, it was just a short story I wrote, inspired by some fanfictions. **

**I hope you like it & reviews would be awesome.**


	2. Lost & Found

**2. Lost & Found**

I opened my eyes and blinked twice, but there was no hint of darkness. Instead, the sun shone too brightly to be in a misty spring evening. I wanted to read that line again just to make sure I didn't misread a word. But the album was gone, or I should say everything was gone. I was standing on a street, a fairly busy street that I didn't know. I looked around desperately to search for shops or signs that I could recognise.

Nothing.

I was sweating helplessly, out of nowhere, with nothing but goose bumps rolling down my spine.

Getting lost didn't cause me to feel petrified but the pedestrians did. Everyone had wild hair. Women either wore oversized shirts, sweaters or crazy puff skirts and leg warmers with heavy makeup. Am I on a movie set portraying the 80's? I didn't see any cameras around and people passing by were staring at me like I was a weirdo. I couldn't move an inch but something at the street corner caught my attention: a guidepost. _62__nd__ Avenue._ Oh my. That's my home address!

"Newspaper?" an old man sitting next to his little store asked inquiringly.

I jumped a little, not noticing I had stood next to his store for minutes. I turned towards him and searched for some explanations: _Mulroney visited Orphanage, 23__rd__ July, 1985._

"This is July 23rd, 1985?" I questioned, calculating the probability of me being chosen to be on a reality game show. The chance was slim.

"Of course, miss, are you going to buy one?" he urged, annoyed.

"Oh, hmm, yea," I grabbed a penny from my pocket and paid for the newspaper before the old man complained again.

I paced along the street, not realising a dark shade was approaching until I heard the sound of anxious strides. A man crushed into me. We both fell. He was up on his feet in two seconds and dashed for his like. Dying on the ground was a blue purse.

"STOP! Stop that man," a sharp yell followed his faltering steps, "That's my purse!" The stride was more rapid this time.

"I guess this is yours, miss?" I interrupted when she ran past me.

The young girl paused and turned to me, "Oh, _oh._ Thanks, thank you so much," she rejoiced, "Nice to meet you, my name's Elisa." She was only a teenager, her features less prominent but still distinguishable. Her cheekbone less bold and jaws not as lean. Her auburn brown hair tied into a ponytail.

_Oh my, could this be real? Hello, Mum. _"Hi, hmm, I'm Amber."

"Well, Amber, I should thank you properly. Are you heading somewhere? Would you like to join me for lunch at home?" Her grin was so genuine and the invitation was especially tempting, "hmm, we don't have a fine menu but you are welcome," she added.

"Sure, I…have nowhere to go," _How true this is. _ My _family_ seems to be the only refuge in this _old _world.

"Let's go then, I live on the 73rd with my parent and younger sister and brother. You will love them, they are all very friendly." I smiled and nodded but was barely listening; my mind was too occupied as I equipped myself with logical reasons that explain my lack of friends and family. I hoped they would allow me to stay with them, fingers crossed.

According to family records, Amber, who was very likely to be me, stayed with the Wrights in 1985. Amber was 17, which once again convinced me of her identity. She was enjoying her gap year. _Okay, a deferred year before college was a fairly sound motive._

**___Author's note:_**

**___Thank you. & Again, reviews are my motivations!_**


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